Finding My Place
by GreyMurphy
Summary: After Harry saved Fleur's sister, were we really supposed to believe that nothing changed? AU, but close-to-canon backstory. Harry is smarter and has a darker background. HarryxFleur, but slow progress. Rated T as the first chapter is kinda heavy but we'll lighten up considerably in later chapters. *Updated Ch 1 and 2, Ch 3 now up* On Hiatus
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Read, Review, Critique me to your heart's content, but if you flame me, I WILL find you, and I WILL troll you on whatever social media you use. Don't test me on this.**

 **I use "words" as general speaking, "** _ **words"**_ **as French, and 'words' as thoughts.**

 **UPDATE: Hey Folks. I've updated Ch 1 and Ch 2. I am proofreading Ch 3 and should have it up soon.**

 **Disclaimer: I am secretly a multi-billionaire writer who gets her jollies trolling people with non-canon stories about her trademarked and officially licensed characters. No, really.**

Fighting for air, she desperately swam for the surface, clawing her way toward the life-giving necessity she currently lacked. As she neared the surface, her only thought was to the sister she knew she left behind.

Gasping, she broke the surface of the lake, and made her way to shore, hoping against all odds that her sister would be returned to her.

" _Gabby, I'm so sorry…_ ", she whispered to herself.

Walking out of the lake, she was immediately surrounded by her parents, the Hogwarts mediwitch, and her headmistress. There were several others trying to get a look at her, and she only then became aware of the stinging claw marks adorning her legs and arms as the cold lake air touched them.

Gathered into a towel by her father, the young French witch was ushered into the tent where the mediwitch began to rub ointment into the still slightly bleeding wounds. Her skin would no longer be as smooth as it once was, as the grindylows were dark creatures, and thus left cursed scars. They would not be very visible, as a werewolf's would be, but Fleur would feel them for the rest of her life.

" _How long has it been since the task started?_ " she asked her father.

" _Nearly forty-five minutes._ " There was so little time. Would Gabby be alright?

"Now dear, I want you to let me know if these scars start to hurt, alright?" the mediwitch said. "And I'll give you some of this ointment for later, in case they crack. Damn tournament, putting children in such dangerous situations." she trailed off, bustling over to her shelf of lotions.

Fleur was less worried about the scars, and more worried about what would happen to that which she'll "sorely miss" when the hour was up, especially since it apparently "won't come back" when the task was over.

All of a sudden, she heard the crowd began to shout.

Rushing out of the tent, she saw the older Hogwarts boy swimming to shore, alongside the pretty Asian witch who he had gone to the Yule Ball with. As they reached the shore, Fleur hurried forward and tried to find out as much as she could from her fellow champion.

"Was there a little blonde girl down there? Is she alright?"

The boy nodded, "She was down there alright, but the merpeople were a little scary about anyone approaching her. It might have just been that they knew who our captives were, but I was in too much of a hurry to test any theories. Harry was still down there, though, so if push comes to shove, he'll probably get her back alright."

The other Hogwarts champion, the little boy. Who admittedly, had done far better than her in the first task. And given the older boy's seeming respect for this Harry, she hoped that he would manage to save her sister.

The crowd began to cheer again, this time largely in the Durmstrang sections, and Fleur caught sight of a large shark making its way to shore, a young witch being pulled along.

Hermione was at this point in time, soaked, annoyed, and slightly embarrassed, as Viktor Krum, Quidditch star extraordinaire, was hovering about her, making sure she was alright. She saw the French witch over with two people who looked to be her parents and began to make her way over to her.

" _Are you alright?"_ she asked the anxious-looking witch.

Looking slightly surprised the girl was talking to her, let alone in her native tongue, Fleur replied _, "I have been better, I am worried about my sister. Do you know if she is alright?"_

Hermione shook her head, _"Everything after meeting in Dumbledore's office last night is blank. I do know that we were not supposed to be in any danger, that the merfolk would return us after the hour was up."_

Fleur felt slightly more at ease, but she continued to glance nervously out onto the water. Suddenly she gasped, as a trident soared out of the water, and two people came up after it, a redhead and a little blonde. She called out for her sister, and the duo began swimming as quickly as possible toward the shore. A spear, thrown from a young merman in pursuit, flew just past the redhead, whistling as it narrowly missed him. As they got closer, Fleur realized the redhead was badly wounded, bleeding from several gashes on his arms and legs, and a nasty puncture wound in his back. Gabby was unhurt, but frantic in her strokes, clawing for the safety of the shore. Several witches and wizards had their wands out, but the merfolk stayed at a distance, making it easier to dodge the spells thrown their way.

Dumbledore attempted to cease the hostilities but was largely ignored, until he cast a Sonorous charm and yelled for both sides to stop. A final beam of light shot from a young brown haired wizard, slightly gangly, who looked incensed, and slightly embarrassed that his was the last spell.

Dumbledore gave the boy a _look_ , proud but reprimanding, and continued on, "Where is the fourth champion? Bring him forward."

The small group of merfolk glared at the headmaster and as one, turned and swam back toward their village, leaving the muttering crowd behind them.

* * *

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Triwizard Contestant, and all-around good guy, was having a very bad day.

He had had worse, but today was not going well for him.

He had woken up, showered, gotten dressed, and was on time for breakfast, but that was where his good day ended and his bad feelings began. He ate slowly, waiting for Ron and Hermione to come down and join him. He didn't see Ron in the Dormitory, so he had assumed he was already down here and expected Hermione to have come with him. As he ate, his nerves only grew as he saw first Cedric come in looking worried and like he lost someone or thing important to him, and then Fleur sprinted in, glanced over the occupants of the Great Hall, and sprinted back out. That was his first bad feeling.

The second bad feeling he got was when Moody approached him as he was making his way out of the castle towards the lake.

"Have ya got a plan yet, lad?" the ex-Auror asked gruffly.

"Yeah," Harry responded slowly, hesitant around the temperamental old man.

"Well let's hear it then! Can't have you going off half-cocked on some hare-brained scheme like a bubble-head charm."

In point-of-fact, that was not Harry's plan, but it was close. Harry and Hermione had worked out a plan to charm an old muggle diving mask imperturbable and impervious, then attach a small air tank with an overpowered air-freshening charm in it. Ron had actually been the inspiration for it after a case of mumblemumps began making the rounds of Gryffindor tower after the Yule Ball. Ron used the household air freshening charm to clear out the room once Seamus was found to have it, and Harry was intrigued at the possibilities. Hermione had then come up with the idea to combine the charm with a scuba mask, making use of the charms along the way. The air-freshening charm was a predecessor of the bubble-head charm which was developed by an industrious Half-Blood after seeing muggles diving in the Mediterranean.

"I don't see why I should tell you less than half an hour before the task begins. You'll see it in action then." Harry was slightly concerned at how much of an interest Moody was taking in him, especially since teachers weren't allowed to help the champions with the tasks.

"Because I've got something that blows that stupid bubble charm out of the water, and I happen to know the Diggory boy is going to be using that charm in the task."

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm good. Enjoy watching the task," Harry threw over his shoulder as he walked off.

As the champions dove into the frigid water, Harry gasped and wished he had worn a wetsuit or anything more that the swim trunks he had transfigured that morning. Thankfully, the mouthpiece was stuck in his mouth, so he didn't accidentally spit it out. Turning toward the center of the lake, Harry began to dive deeper and move forward, hoping to reach the mervillage with plenty of time to spare.

As he dove, Harry began to feel colder and colder, and the pressure in his ears was mounting. Working his jaw, he managed to pop his eardrums back to equal pressure, and continued on, working his jaw every now and again to avoid the sharp pain associated with the depth difference.

Coming up to a large kelp grove, he swam upwards a little to avoid going in and among the worst of the tangle. He remembered from last year the lesson on the water devils that lived in such places.

Clearing the weeds, he got his first look at the mervillage. It was dark, overgrown with mossy looking weeds, and the houses themselves were squat, ugly looking things. The merfolk were not much different. They had large black eyes and more closely resembled fish than humans.

As he approached the center of the village, he heard a beautiful voice singing the riddle, from next to a collection of pillars. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it was a larger version of the golden egg he had retrieved in the first task and that there were people attached to the pillars. Surrounding the town center were the inhabitants of the village, approximately 60 merfolk.

Ron, Hermione, Cho and a little blonde girl were all tied to the columns. Moving toward Hermione, as she was closest, the merpeople advanced threateningly, shaking their weapons and making negative noises. He backed off and approached Ron next. They let him approach, and he began to untie him when he sensed a threat behind him.

Spinning around, he spotted a half-transfigured Krum coming straight for him. Harry dodged out of the way, and the shark-man bit through the rope holding Hermione and began to circle back around to pick her up. Cedric swam up while Harry was distracted, cut Cho free, and began to make for the surface. Harry cut Ron free, but stuck around to make sure Krum got Hermione alright, and that Fleur got to her hostage safely.

Krum swam by, grabbed the drifting Hermione, and swam off, after glancing toward the surface and back at his opponent. Harry got the message and began to scan for Fleur, hoping she showed up soon.

After several minutes of waiting, Harry decided to grab the girl and swim away. Thinking that a swimming Ron would be better than a sleeping one, he cast the bubblehead charm on his friend, waking him up. Ron started awake, looked around, and spotting Harry gave him a questioning look. Harry pointed toward the blonde, his wrist, and then looked around. Ron nodded, and swam a few meters away, and waited.

Harry turned to look at the merfolk and their sharp weapons, sighed and cast a severing hex at the ropes binding the little girl. The merfolk yelled and began to charge toward the boy, one of them even throwing his net in the hope of slowing down the escaping pair. Ron gave a _look_ to Harry that promised much ribbing and grabbed the girl's other arm as they began swimming for the surface.

Harry, Ron, and their charge had a slight head start, assisted by repelling charms Harry used to propel them along, but the mermish warriors were part fish and were making steady progress after them. Harry, seeing that they were close to the surface, pointed upwards and at the girl, and then turned to face the charging horde. Ron apparently understood the vague gestures, as he grasped the girl tighter and headed for the surface.

Harry, having planned for this _exact_ thing to happen, had no plans whatsoever to deal with an oncoming group of mermish warriors. He thought over the spells he and Hermione had found, threw them all out, and figured his best hope was to distract as many of the group as possible. He hoped the delay would protect his friend and the other captive. Sending stinging hexes at the group, he began swimming away, drawing two-thirds of the group towards him. He could only hope the rest never made it close to the others.

Swimming as fast as he could, he made a break for the part of the lake bordered by the forest, near where he had performed the Patronus Charm last year. Hoping that the mermish warriors would give up before he reached the shore, he sent several repelling charms backward, giving himself a more comfortable lead with which to flee.

Breaking the surface of the lake, he immediately noted his surroundings, namely the forest. Running deeper into the woods, he had to avoid several spears thrown at him and narrowly avoided a trident. Feeling safer now that he was in the Forbidden Forest - even thinking that made him groan at how messed up his life was – he headed toward the side of the lake he started from.

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was having a bad, bad day. First, he woke up to find Fawkes' burning day had come sooner than expected, so he couldn't make any grand entrances or exits for the next few days. Slightly grumbling, he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. He decided on a slice of ham, scrambled eggs, and a particularly nice looking bowl of applesauce. Humming contentedly, he thought about the coming trials in store for the Triwizard champions and made his way back up to his quarters to change into appropriate clothes for judging exceptional teenagers in cold weather: a tall pointed hat with dancing polarbears, and a neon orange robe with palm trees. Happily, he searched for his pouch of lemon drops, and thus came the second great disappointment of Albus' day: Fawkes had decided the little brown pouch to be the perfect place to place his last gift to Albus before he died and was reborn. All Albus could think of was that the pouch had cost him three extra sickles to have his initials put on it, and he didn't have time to go buy a new one. So it was that Albus headed down to the lake, pouchless and bright orange, and not at all in the right frame of mind to deal with mermish warriors attempting to injure a student or three. He was also thoroughly amused by how much "gold" he found up his rather large (noble!) schnoz. But that wasn't useful in finding his missing protégé Harry Potter.

* * *

Ron had had worse days.

Being injured in the epic chess match was one of them, but it cemented and defined his friendship with Harry.

Going into the bloody Acromantula nest was pretty bad, but not as bad as knowing his sister was missing and finding that message written in her blood.

And while last year was great for Harry, finding out he had a dog-father and that he would have an easier time during the summers, Ron had ended up using a cane for a month after being completely bloody terrified when said dog-father kidnapped him and tried to kill his rat.

That said, he wouldn't trade any of those days for a mountain of gold. Each of them was spent with his best mates, and they only helped strengthen their bond, so even if he got jealous of Harry sometimes, he would never truly wish he had never met Harry Potter.

He still cursed the bloody twit up and down in his mind for getting him into these types of situations.

When he had come-to underwater in the bubble head charm, he was slightly surprised. He had been told he wouldn't wake up until he breached the surface of the lake. 'Guess Harry found a way around that little sleeping charm,' he thought ironically. No matter that it was Dumbledore himself who put them under, Harry did the impossible on a regular basis.

Following his lead in rescuing the little Delacour girl, he was really only waiting for things to go absolutely nutters, and for Harry to somehow manage to squeeze out another victory.

Having a village of Merfolk chasing you should usually be a good indicator that you should get away from whoever got you into this situation in the first place, but for Ron, this was a pretty normal Harry-related adventure.

When Harry had stopped to face the Mermish warriors on his own, Ron almost stayed with him, but without a wand, he was pretty much useless, and the Delacour girl needed to get away from the angry fish-people with pointy things. So he continued to swim as quickly as possible toward shore, thanking Merlin's snowy beard that Harry had at least woken him up to watch the madness ensue around him.

A sharp pain in his leg distracted him, and he looked back and saw a collared Grindylow attempting to slow him down. Apparently, the merfolk had hunting dogs. Sodding merpeople with their dark-creature pets. Kicking at it with his free leg, he kept going. A few seconds later another one grabbed onto his free arm. Continuing to swim, he eventually broke the surface. As he did, he felt a burning pain in his back and realized one of the spears must have hit him. He swam as quickly as possible toward shore, tugging the awakening girl along with him.

As she came more awake, she started swimming too, and they quickly reached the shore.

Quickly latched onto by Madame Pomfrey, he was led dripping and bleeding to the tent, and the last thing he saw was Neville's final shot at the merfolk.

'Heh, good on ya, Neville,' was his last conscious thought as he finally allowed himself to black out on the bed.

* * *

As Harry made his way toward the stands, all he could think about was what the mermen were angry about. He couldn't understand why they had reacted so violently when he had taken both captives, but they were completely against Harry taking the little blonde girl.

Maybe that was it! Maybe they wanted to keep the little blonde, and so when Harry took her, they reacted violently, thinking he was robbing them of their prize. That would also explain why one group had split off from chasing Harry to pursue Ron and the girl.

'But why wouldn't all of them chase after her if they just wanted to keep her for themselves? Most of them kept chasing me...'

Harry gave up trying to guess their motivations the moment he saw his best friend being led into the mediwitch tent. He looked really beaten up.

'Maybe the toughest warriors chased after them, and I just got the superior numbers angle. Doesn't matter. I've got to check on Ron, make sure he'll be okay,' he thought, as he ran into the tent. Ron was passed out on a bed and the French champion had the little blonde girl in her lap, while both were being wrapped in several blankets.

Madame Pomfrey looked up, saw Harry and literally growled. Harry shuddered.

"Mister Potter, what were you thinking, going and taking on a whole mermish village. Sit down!" she ordered, pushing him towards the only other empty bed in the tent, which suspiciously had a little owl on the headboard he remembered carving into a bed back in the hospital wing.

"Really? You brought down a separate bed, just for me? You have a lot of faith in my ability to get hurt, don't you Poppy?" he groused, inwardly touched that she cared.

"I know you too well Mister Potter, and you don't get to call me Poppy until you've gone more than a few months without needing my services. Now let's see what you've managed to do to yourself this time."

Harry ended up with a couple scars from the weaponsdippedingrindylowvenom, and a broken foot bone from kicking off one of the water demons before it could scar his leg. Ron had a broken toe, two broken ribs,andnumerousgrindylow scars on his arms, legs, and torso. Fleur's sister (he could see the resemblance now) ended up with some bruises from the tight grips the boys had as they fled the merfolk but otherwise escaped unharmed.

* * *

Fleur looked at the man who had saved her sister from the village and stayed behind to stall the warriors. She was unusually nervous around him, for no other reason than because she underestimated him. He had held off nearly a full village of mermish warriors for enough time to get her beloved sister to safety, then had the skill to escape nearly unharmed. She could no longer call him a boy, and to be honest, he wasn't truly little. Over the past months, she had seen him grow emotionally and physically, as the rigors of the tournament tested him, as they tested her and forced her to move past the petty feelings she often harbored towards the other girls of Beauxbatons. He was still young, but she could see the truth behind the rumors she often heard of him.

"What?" the object of her thoughts inquired.

"Hu- oh, sorry, just lost in thought. I wanted to thank you again for saving my sister."

Harry blushed. She had kissed him soundly once Gabby was safely asleep, and he apparently was still thinking about it. How adorable!

"I-it was nothing. Anyone would have done it."

"But that's just it, you did it. Not Cedric, not Viktor. And while I am grateful to your friend, he would not even have been conscious if you had not woken him up. _You_ are the one who put his life on the line to distract the mermish and _you_ who then escaped nearly unharmed from a large band of their best warriors. Don't underplay your feats, 'Arry."

Harry just blushed brighter and looked down. He glanced back up, saw her looking intensely at him, and looked away. He sighed. "I can understand why you feel that way, but it doesn't change my reasoning. Anybody would have done as I did if they were in the position I was in." Another sigh, and quieter, he haltingly begins, "I-I know you think I'm just a little boy, but I know what it means to do your best under pressure, and still fail. I didn't want you to lose what you treasure most simply because I wasn't brave enough to go against the rules."

Fleur was about to protest the 'little boy' comment when she realized some of the undertones in the comment he just made. Being under pressure and failing to rise to meet it is a hard lesson to learn, one she had to know far too early, even before her attempts at making friends in her first year failed. She knew most witches and wizards didn't learn that lesson until much later in life, mostly due to the convenience of magic. If Harry had learned such a lesson at his age, then he was something indeed special among his peers. She only hoped he didn't really possess the true depth that knowledge required, as it was a heavy burden to bear.

"I want to explain that I know what it is to feel like you are powerless. Like you have failed to meet expectations. When I got to Beauxbatons, I was isolated because my veela heritage had begun to emerge. I am not powerful like my grandmother, nor do I have as much conscious control of my allure, which is thankfully weaker than her or my mother's. By the age of 13, I was the most sought after girl in the school, and by the age of 16, I was inundated with marriage requests. I politely but firmly turned them all down. I would not become a tool for a man I did not love, and even now I must fight off suitors. There are very few people who are immune to a Veela's allure, and so I must slog through the crowds every time I walk the halls of the school. I hope to one day find someone who will love me for me."

Fleur was reluctant to reveal all her secrets atonce, but sensed that Harry knew how it felt to be on the outside of your school, and she hoped to help him deal with some of the stresses involved in that.

* * *

The next day, Harry entered the Great Hall for breakfast, and everyone started gossiping and whispering. But for the first time, Harry didn't care. He was oblivious to the world around him, seemingly pondering on some deep inner conflict. In reality, he was thinking about last night, Fleur, and their talk. He thought back to after Fleur went silent.

They had avoided looking into each other's eyes, each having seen something they hadn't seen before. Harry had been the one to break the silence this time. He struggled to find the words, but eventually settled on simple truths.

"I was raised by my mother's muggle sister and her family. They dislike magic in a most profound yet ignorant way. Petunia, my aunt, hates magic because it stole her sister from her. I learned from a young age that the fact I existed was a personal slight in her eyes. To Vernon, I exemplified everything he would never be: special. And he hated me for it. Dudley was a simple child who reveled in his parent's love and learned that hating me and hurting me made them proud, so he did his best to make his parents happy.

"When I was 3, I was physically abused for the first time. Nothing serious, just a whack to my head to 'keep my freak hands away from Dudley's toys.' It got slightly worse each time I did something wrong and escalated quickly if it was at all magical.

"At the age of 5, I first learned my name when the teacher called the roll and told me to raise my hand when "Harry Potter" was called. Before that, I thought I was called 'boy' or 'freak', and for many years after that, I still answered to those names.

"By the age of seven, I would cook breakfast, clean the downstairs, eat a small snack while fixing lunch, then begin gardening. I would work till Vernon was home, then start on dinner. If I was lucky, I would eat after they had finished, clean up the dishes, and then quietly clean the upstairs. I would be in my cupboard by 10, and be up by 6 to start all over.

Harry sighed, and leaned forward, their eyes connecting, blue starting to shine from unshed tears and green hard as emerald.

"I'm telling you these things so you know I can understand. I see it in your eyes, that you realize what it really means when I say I lost my childhood a long time ago if I ever had it."

Harry leaned back, breaking the eye contact. Fleur blinked a few times, wiping her eyes.

"It is my turn to say I'm sorry. I thought you were a little boy when now I see you were never given the chance. I'm sorry 'Arry."

Harry shook his head, clearing it and bringing his attention back to the Great Hall. He looked around, realized he had eaten on autopilot and that the Hall was beginning to empty out, the students going back to their dorms or out onto the grounds to enjoy the snowfall. He looked up as a figure moved over to him, and smiled as Hermione sat down. She had spent the evening with Krum and come back late to the dormitory Ron had told him, and she had been slightly flustered, but very happy.

Harry grinned at her, "Enjoy your evening?"

"It was very nice if you must know," Hermione blushed. "Viktor and I spent the evening talking, and we came to the decision that we would see where the relationship would take us. We kissed, and it turned a little heavier. He was a perfect gentleman, though, and backed off even before I really began to feel uncomfortable." She blushed again. "I really like him, Harry."

"I'm glad."

They sat in companionable silence, each trusting the other, but each lost in their own thoughts on the events of the previous day.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: I am attempting a long fic, so prepare for annoying wait times, confusing plot lines, and going back to reread previous chapters because I decide to change something [and I WILL change something ;)]**

 **UPDATE: Yep, these two chapters are pretty much the same, but I took out some of the icky parts. I might do a darker one-shot later, but the stuff I put out earlier was weighing on my mind. Soooo... I cut it. That's my right, as the author, but I would love to hear how you guys feel about the changes.**

 **Disclaimer: You know, and I know. I'll say it anyway: JK Rowling© is owned by the author whose pseudonym is Harry Potter and the Publishing Company, Hogwarts LLC. No need to put up a fuss.**

Harry Potter, Triwizard contestant, and Boy-Who-Lived was feeling much better.

He had come down with a nasty cold after the events in the Black Lake last week. Who knew spending more than an hour underwater in freezing-cold temperatures would literally kill off half of his magical immune system, making him vulnerable to illnesses he would otherwise be fine against.

…

'Bloody sodding tournament with its bloody idiotic organizers.' Harry said under his breath. The duffers in charge of these events had evidently never heard of proper planning. Not only was the crowd supposed to stare at a lake for an hour, the contestants were supposed to go swimming in February.

In reality, Harry realized that he could have just as easily applied a warming charm to himself before he dove into the lake half-cocked, but what did they really expect? Having a fourteen-year-old piece together a riddle, hinting that he will need to dive into the lake in mid-winter to retrieve a treasure taken from him…

Yeah, he should have known better.

Walking down toward the Great Hall for lunch, he spotted Fleur and her friend coming from the other direction. They had seen each other in passing a few times over the previous days but hadn't had another real talk since that night in the infirmary. He had no expectations of friendship, but he knew that someone else was out there who understood that little broken piece of him and could be trusted with it.

Smiling, he greeted them, "Hello Fleur, Fleur's friend. How are you this fine Thursday afternoon?" He stopped to wait for them to reach him so they could enter the Hall together.

"We are doing fine, thank you 'Arry," Fleur answered, "and this is my friend Dian. She is also part veela, though through her father, so she does not have any special gifts."

Harry looked at the brunette and agreed. She looked nothing like Fleur, though she was still quite pretty. Wishing them a good day, Harry walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Ron and Seamus, who were discussing, like always, Quidditch.

"I'm telling you mate, the Irish team was all around better than the Bulgarians, and with a new Seeker next year, we'll be a sure thing to win the Home Cup!"

"No way! The Arrows and the Cannons have much better rosters after the clean out last season! I'll admit the Cannons have been in a slump the last few years, but this year we'll turn it all around! New manager, new chasers, and a whole new sponsor that is putting them all on new brooms! There is no way the Cannons won't make it to the Cup Finals!" Ron was as die-hard a fan as any team could hope for, even having the orange hair to rep for them 24/7.

Harry interrupted them, "What about Puddlemere? Oliver is their new reserve keeper, and they have a new beater pair to back up their offensive Chaser line." Got to support the old captain.

"Nah, they're good, but not strong enough for the Cup. Maybe next year when their cack-handed Seeker has some more practice at actually catching the snitch." Seamus retorted.

Harry shrugged as he reached for the mashers. He didn't really follow the leagues, as the culmination of them was during the summer months when he was at the Dursleys. "All the same, they might surprise everyone. I have a feeling they will go farther than people think," he finished with a grin.

Seamus shrugged as well and took a bite of his bacon sandwich. 'Always seemed to be eating meat, that one,' Harry mused as he himself piled on the black pudding. Ron continued to eat whatever was in front of him at the time, belying his beanstalk frame.

Ron was a special kind of guy, at least in Harry's mind. He would completely support you without a doubt, in some of the toughest situations, but throw the issue of 'everlasting fame' out there, and he goes red and silent. Harry loved him like a brother, but he knew Ron needed to work on his temper. When Harry's name came out of the Goblet on Halloween, Ron had at first been shocked but happy his best mate had figured out a way to break the age line. Then that happiness turned to curiosity, then to bitterness. He had gotten very angry when even after the fact Harry wouldn't admit to putting his name in. The next few days were strained, but eventually, Ron had started coming around.

Convincing Hermione to tell him about all the deaths from past tournaments wasn't a part of his change, and Harry stood by that.

When Ron had eventually come back, asking Harry straight out if he had put his name in, and Harry denied it, then the duo began to heal the minor rift between them. Hermione had only shaken her head and muttered something under her breath, but smiled when they pulled out Ron's chess board. By the first task, they were back to being the Golden Trio, and it was actually Ron's idea to use his broom to outfly the dragon, though it was said in jest at first.

Clearing his thoughts, Harry shook his head and finished his lunch. The trio got up and started making for the exit. Contemplatively, Harry posed possibly the most important question yet, "Have you two seen the newest addition to the French contingent around anywhere? The little blonde one? She has been suspiciously absent all week."

As if fate was mocking him, he began to feel a tingle down his spine of the magnitude of the one he had gotten down in the lake when Krum-Shark was coming towards him.

Whipping his head around, he spotted an incoming blonde missile. Bracing for impact, he acknowledged the inevitable and accepted his fate. Leaving everything to Ron, Hermione, and Sirius in his mental will, he was ready for whatever came next.

Gabrielle Delacour couldn't have been more than five stone, yet when she whumped into her hero, he was knocked to the ground and _slid_ a good meter. With her face buried in his robes, he couldn't understand her, and even if he could hear her, it was most likely in French.

Accepting that he would be hearing about this from Ron and Seamus for many months to come, he patted her on the back and tried to pry her from her death grip.

Getting her separated enough to begin to understand what she was saying, he picked up words like "hero", "lumary", and "bestest friend ever" from her babbling, but little else.

Again spotting Fleur and Dian, he tried to signal them to come help, but they just waved back and kept walking. Inwardly grumbling at 'no good French veela', he managed to get back to his feet with little Gabby still holding on around his chest.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Harry was late to Runes but had a very grateful Mrs. Delacour's note saying what happened and that Harry should be excused for walking little Gabby back to the carriage. Professor Babbling gave him a _look_ , but simply nodded and allowed Harry to sit down.

"As I was saying, the Norse runic system is one of the steadiest and most widely used runic languages today. It is the foundation for much of the warding schemes and enchantments that have been developed over the past 300 years." Harry began taking notes and started to drift in the magic of ancient languages. He had always had an easy affinity for languages, probably related to his Parseltongue ability.

"The Sowilo rune is the next in the sequence, symbolizing the sun or illumination. Said to strengthen the _hvel_ , it is important to note that many of the strongest protection rune schemes are based around this rune."

Glancing up, Harry noted down the lightning shaped symbol and its meanings and importance, as well as its uses in advanced schemes.

Curious, he asked the professor, "Could it be applied to a person and used as a protection?"

Babbling looked up and frowned, thinking the question over. "I doubt it, as it would take a particularly strong intent to be of any sort of use. I assume you ask because of your scar?"

Harry nodded.

Babbling was contemplative. "I suppose it could be a side effect of the love your mother had for you and the strength of the Killing Curse. It is impossible to replicate, so any further thought would be simply academic."

Again, Harry nodded. He assumed as much but was still curious at the odd similarity to his scar.

As the class finished, Hermione stayed behind to ask the Professor further questions about the combination _sowilo_ rune she introduced, and its relation to the _raido_. Harry hovered near the back and made his way forward slowly, hoping that Hermione would be finished and would leave before he reached the front.

"… inverse properties of _sowilo_ damage the destiny/traveling intent of the _raido_? And another thing, would the _raido_ be a combination of the _isa_ and _sowilo_ runes, or is it the other way around, that they are components of the _raido_?" Hermione shot off rapid fire, eyes wide and hungry for information.

"How about you come by later this evening and we can discuss these questions?" Babbling countered amusedly.

Hermione blushed, then muttered, "I can't come by tonight. I've got a date with Viktor." By the end of this brief statement, Professor Babbling was wide eyed and said in a shocked tone, "Well congratulations. I suppose I can make time this weekend if you are still curious. Come find me tomorrow night, and we can find a time that would work."

Harry was slightly surprised but happy for his friend. He wasn't sure Krum was the best match to her personality, but she had admittedly begun to emerge from her tomes since the Bulgarian first came. Inwardly grinning, he inserted, "I'll be keeping an eye on Krum. Never know what those Bulgarians might be doing over on their ship."

Hermione jumped a little. 'Apparently, she didn't realize I was still here,' Harry thought amusedly.

Spinning to face him, she hit his shoulder with her free hand, and indignantly replied, "You will do no such thing! Viktor is the perfect gentleman, and I'll have you know he and I are doing just fine without interference on your part!"

"Geez Hermione, it was just a joke! You know I like Krum." Harry rubbed his arm, making sure to remember Hermione was _way_ too strong to be pissing off.

Hermione huffed and offered a small apologetic smile. "I know Harry; it's just having all these girls looking accusingly at me while I'm with him. I'll see you later, alright?"

Harry nodded, and Hermione exited the classroom.

Turning to Professor Babbling, he asked, "Can I come by later to discuss the _sowilo_ rune schemes? I feel that it could be useful, especially the 'Illumination' aspect of them."

"Of course Mr. Potter, like I said to Hermione, I'm always happy to help a student looking to further their understanding."

Harry wished his head of house was like that. Lately, McGonagall had been suspiciously absent from Gryffindor Tower, probably due to her Deputy Headmistress position.

"Thank you, Professor. See you tonight."

* * *

Walking into the Ancient Runes classroom for the second time that day, Harry noticed something he had missed, really all year. The decorations on the entryway to the classroom glowed slightly, not bright enough to be noticed in the full light of day, but now when the sun was down and only candlelight lit the room, it was possible to make out the etchings along the doorframe and the light blue glow they produced.

"I see you noticed the door. I'm afraid I can't take credit for it, it was there when I got the post. My predecessor only told me two things about it: it was a good thing, and it was made by one of the brightest witches he knew, your mother."

Harry had startled when he heard the professor's voice over his shoulder but continued studying the patterns until she mentioned his mum.

Quickly turning to Professor Babbling, he asked with wide eyes, "My mum was a Runes student?"

Babbling smiled. "Yes, in fact, when I was a fourth year, and she a seventh, she would teach the class when Professor Gershram wasn't feeling well, which happened pretty often that year if memory serves.

"Lily was quite adept at explaining the power of runes and had a peculiar affinity for the Norse and Assyrian alphabets, which, as you should know, are two of the most powerful rune sets, particularly the way Lily used them. She could seamlessly move from one scheme to the next without even looking at a template. Gershram told me that this doorway was Lily's parting gift to the Ancient Runes classroom. Wherever the classroom is, the doorway will have these carvings. He never told me exactly what it was supposed to do, but I have pieced together some of the significance of the scheme.

"Basically what it is supposed to do is filter the negative aspects of the people who walk through the door. It isn't a cure-all, but if a person with a cold comes through, the runny nose will slow down, the fever will slightly drop, and so forth. If a person with anger or bad intentions comes through, a small part of the negative emotions drains away. It is powered by the ambient magic exuded by the castle, which is a very difficult thing to do. Most runescribes wouldn't be able to fit the necessary schemes on the archway, let alone the rest of the schemes she managed to fit.

"As the years go by, I have seen some amazing people walk through that door, and every time I see them walk through, I am reminded of your mother and what she could have done if her life wasn't cut short. She could have easily earned an apprenticeship with any Runemaster in the world with this doorway, and yet she chose to pursue Charms and later, motherhood. But I doubt you came here with questions about the archway. Now, I believe you wanted to discuss _sowilo_ 'illumination' schemes, correct?"

Tearing his eyes from the archway, he nodded to the professor. "I feel like that aspect of the rune would be helpful to study, but I didn't see anything in the book that mentioned uses for that aspect, only that the rune could mean that."

Babbling nodded. "It is an important part of the rune, but rarely is it used solely for that purpose. It is far more common to see it used, like I said in class, at the center of a protective runic scheme. 'Illumination' in this case means something far more complex than simple light. When properly applied, it helps the scheme push through every obstacle. In the protection schemes, it provides the strength to not give up, but in the 'illumination' schemes, it provides the strength of will to overcome."

Harry thought about the uses this could have for the tournament, and immediately came up with a few ideas. "Could this be used as a weapon? I mean, could I apply it to a stone and throw it? Or maybe into a club to bash things out of the way?"

Babbling nodded. "Those would certainly work, but try and think of the 'Illumination' aspect of it as the motivational push to overcome the dark. Actually, come over here." She gestured him over to the doorway. "Do you see here, to the left of the center of the arch? The _sowilo_ is used here as a way to point the cleansing power of the arch toward the negative aspects in someone's outlook."

"What is it used for here?" Harry asked, pointing to the lower right.

Babbling looked confused. "That isn't _sowilo_. That entire section is in a runic language I haven't seen before. I haven't found a single book helping me translate it. Do you mean you can read it?"

Harry gave a hesitant nod. He was thinking this day couldn't get any stranger, first with Gabby, then the arch that his mother apparently made. Now it appeared that she wrote part of it in a language only he knew.

"Interesting. We will have to investigate further sometime soon. Well, I won't keep you any longer, Harry, but please hurry back to your common room. It is almost curfew, and I don't want to get you in trouble.

Harry walked out, heading up to the portrait entrance to Gryffindor Tower. The whole walk back, he thought about the arch, and he kept running the 'Illumination' aspect of the _sowilo_ rune over in his head. " _The understanding of the Mysteries and the full awareness. It is the direct and devastating power which no obstacle can stop. Sowilo resists the forces of death and destruction, revealing the goals that man wants to reach."_

* * *

Fleur felt far too awake for the bed she was currently occupying. She had gone to sleep fairly early in anticipation of today, the day she would finally confront her concern for Harry. She had no designs on the boy, just anxiety that he would take her concern the wrong way.

After their talk in the Hospital Wing, she hadn't had the opportunity to really think over all the subtleties of the conversation until the previous weekend. She had come to the conclusion last night that he was hiding something, not just from her, but from everyone, which wasn't healthy. Even she had talked with her parents about her insecurities, but Harry wasn't sharing his problems with anyone. She was under no delusions of becoming his best friend, but she wanted to make sure he would be okay. She knew that not talking only made the issues worse, not make them go away.

Rolling out of bed, she hopped in the shower, grateful each student got their own small bathroom. She let her hair down and quickly worked her way through it, not putting as much attention as she usually would into making sure every inch was sparkling. She was still far too nervous to do much more than rinse off and get dressed. As soon as the drying charm finished, she walked out of the carriage, past some of her peers, and practically ran towards Hogwarts through the cold morning air. The Beauxbatons students had the option to take their meals in the carriage if they wanted, but the Headmistress encouraged them to build friendships in the castle.

Reaching the great double doors, they opened in front of her and she went in, making her way towards the Great Hall.

* * *

It was still early on the next Thursday morning, but the tables were beginning to be filled by awakening students. Harry himself had woken up a mere twenty minutes previously and had showered while the other boys were still untangling from their sheets.

The last few days had been beyond hectic. Besides meeting with Professor Babbling to discuss _sowilo_ rune schemes, the amount of homework he had had to catch up on between the tournament and being sick, and general insanity inherent with living in close proximity to the Weasley Twins, Harry had had no time to even see Fleur beyond passing in the hallways. Not that he expected much more, but the French witch was kind when the other students were still wary of him.

Just as Gabby had apparently been summoned just by thinking of her, Fleur appeared, walking into the Great Hall by herself. She looked around, spotted her friend at the Ravenclaw table and waved. Then she did something totally and completely outside of understanding.

She walked over to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Harry Potter.

The inhabitants of the table were shocked, judging by the looks on their faces, but none of them was as surprised as Harry. Stuttering out a good morning, he continued to assemble a hearty English Breakfast.

"Good morning to you as well, 'Arry. I hope you don't mind if I sit here this morning? I wanted to talk with you for a little bit."

Harry nodded, already feeling less awkward. He had to remind himself that she wasn't a haughty heiress, but a real witch, with all or more of the naff associated with it. Grinning, he leaned over and whispered to her, "You caused a real stir, breaking house boundaries. Not many people have the courage to sit down casually at the Gryffindor table."

She gave a small smile in return and assembled a light meal. Turning back towards him, she cast a small privacy charm around the two of them, nothing that would stop a determined eavesdropper, but enough to dissuade anyone from trying. He had learned that charm a few weeks back while researching in the library, providing an escape from the hostility of Madame Pince and her ultimate quest for silence.

"What did you want to talk about?" Harry asked, biting into his bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich.

"I wanted to thank you again for saving Gabby," Harry waved this off, considering the matter closed and fully 'thanked', "and for not spreading any stories about. I have to admit that the morning after our talk, I was a little afraid that you would tell someone of what you learned, and the hostility would come back again." At this, Harry paused in his pursuit of a runaway piece of toast and faced her fully. He was a little surprised that she thought he would share her secrets, but could understand not fully trusting anyone.

"I wouldn't betray a friend like that. If you 'tell me something in confidence, in confidence it shall be kept,' and all that rot. I know we just became friends," he said this last word hesitantly, not wanting to push for something she hadn't offered, "but you can trust me."

Fleur had a small smile, and her eyes were slightly shining. "Thank you, 'Arry, I haven't made a true friend in a long time. Dian has been there for me, but she doesn't understand what I've been through, so there is always a rift when one of us needs to unload our frustrations." She cut herself short of saying something more, Harry could tell.

He smiled back at her and continued eating. Looking up, he saw Ron and Neville approaching, and quietly signaled Fleur to take down the charm.

As Ron approached the table, his attention was somehow drawn away from the food, and towards the beautiful witch sitting next to Harry. Harry was actually amazed that something had distracted him from food this early in the morning. One more sign that Ron was growing up.

Ron blushed and stuttered out a good morning, and Neville squeaked something similar out, and Harry watched as Fleur's eyes went slightly more aloof, and her body language went from open to guarded in an instant. 'She really is an expert at hiding herself in plain sight,' Harry thought. She wasn't aloof like she was on the first night, but she also wasn't the same quiet young woman he had seen in the Hospital Wing.

Fleur's "Good morning," to both boys was kind and welcoming, but Harry could sense the difference between the one she gave to him several minutes prior.

"C-can I ask why you're sitting here? N-Not that there is anything wrong of course! With you sitting here I mean!" Neville blushed and looked down. His Gryffindor courage was spent for the day.

Fleur smiled and replied, "Just talking with 'Arry for a moment. Mostly about how 'Arry will reward me with a trip to 'ogsmeade once I won the tournament." Her lie was smooth and completely within the realm of possibility. He admired her skill, thinking privately that he would try and get her to teach him.

She looked at them and without malice, asked: "May I ask who the two of you are, and why you sat down here?" He could sense that she was merely curious, but he was afraid Ron might take it the wrong way.

"I'm Ron Weasley, and this is Neville Longbottom. We're friends of Harry's, but I'm more curious why you're talking with him; you are rivals after all. Trying to get secrets out of him?"

Harry quietly sighed. Trust the Ron Weasley temper to flare at the wrong moment.

Quickly taking the situation in hand, he calmed Ron down with a look and assuaged Fleur's annoyed expression with some quiet words.

"Ron here is my best mate, and Neville is something of a legend. He is the only one to ever slow me down when I was locked onto a goal. Guys, Fleur and I really were just talking, though I really think we need to work on your English, Fleur, because I was sure we were talking about how you will be rewarding _me_ with a trip to Hogsmeade once _I_ won." He gently nudged her with a small grin.

Fleur giggled and grabbed a piece of toast from the plate in front of her. Glad that she wasn't mad at Ron, Harry smiled back.

* * *

Albus woke up feeling very refreshed and ready for a fantastic day. The sun was shining, Fawkes was _finally_ big enough to flash with him, and he had a brand new lemon-drop pouch, charmed to repel phoenix 'gifts'; It was sure to be a happy day. Picking out appropriate robes for the day, Albus walked out of the closet wearing purple pants and a lime-green shirt underneath his sparkly red-trimmed robes. It was sure to get much attention and compliments.

Heading down to the Great Hall, he entered using the teacher's wing door and walked casually over to his chair.

'Aaahh, whoever invented the back massage chair charm was a genius,' Albus thought. So it was that he missed the first few minutes of Harry and Fleur's interaction, and was still blissfully unaware that his boy-hero was gaining a new friend.

'Ooohh-hOO! That was one finicky knot!' Dumbledore thought, absently picking his nose as he waited for his Breakfast special to appear in front of him.

* * *

Fleur giggled at Harry's diffusion of the tense atmosphere surrounding Ron. She was glad he was subtle enough to pick up her hint that she didn't want the two boys to know what they had been talking about.

As the three Hogwarts students began to get up to head back to their dorms, Fleur pulled on Harry's sleeve, silently asking him to stay back briefly.

"Harry, do you suppose we could continue our conversation later? I have a few more things I want to discuss with you. Not that I don't think we can trust these two, but I want to limit the spread of our discussion."

Harry nodded. "I can meet you after classes today, around 4 if Sprout lets us leave a little early." He shrugged. "Not much going on this weekend either, if you want to meet in Hogsmeade." He blinked, looking slightly flushed at his impulsiveness. "That is if you are free as well."

Fleur felt a twinge of joy that Harry valued her company enough to want to spend his Hogsmeade time with her. "I would love to 'Arry. 'Ow about we meet at the Broomsticks for lunch and then find a spot we can talk."

Agreed, they parted ways at the entrance hall, Fleur going back to the carriage to pick up her books for classes, and Harry to go to Transfiguration with Ron and Neville, each excited for the weekend to come.

 **AN: Thanks for reading, please review and let me know what you think. I feel like this is less development and more filler. I threw in a couple long term plot points, but you probably won't see how they work out till later, maybe a couple 'years.'**

 **Little throwaway: "lumary" is actually le mari, which is husband in french according to google translate. If anyone takes offense, I apologize, but I like it when authors explain a few of their throwaway obscure references.**

 **Clarifying AU points: Harry is smarter and has a slightly darker past (as you can tell from the last chapter), Ron is less of an idiot and never actually abandoned Harry, and Hermione is more real and less of an encyclopedia (less, not completely gone), like in book six. Oh, and Fleur isn't stuck up, but she is kind of defensive. You'll notice other changes as we go, and I'll continue to read other stories and stea- err,** _ **borrow**_ **ideas from them. I might even give some of them credit!**

UPDATE: CH 3 IS COMING SOON


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Hey Everybody! I'm baaack! I got hit with a big whopping dose of "What the heck am I doing with my life?" and I switched majors. Then Finals came, then family time over the holidays. I edited the first two chapters and began writing this one. It's finally done, so I hope you enjoy. Updates will not be regular, but I hope you can forgive me. I am an amateur writing his first story…**

 **Disclaimer: I can see how you might be confused about me owning the source material for this fanfiction, given that I am an American college student. But, really. I don't own the fictional world of "England" or the character JK Rowling, who is just that, a character.**

 ***fist bumps Harry Potter***

* * *

Harry walked out of Potions on Friday, groaning about the unfairness of life and Double Potions right before the weekend. Snape had assigned as much as he would for his OWL level class, in an effort to "determine which, if any, of you children, have the necessary wit to continue wasting my time with," which Harry thought was one more shred of evidence that Snape was unfit to teach.

Ron and Hermione followed Harry out of the classroom, the redhead looking like he was going into shock, and Hermione with a frustrated frown on her face. They had been partners for the practical portion of the class, and their end result had been vanished by Snape after Ron had put in one too many toad wart shavings. This had resulted in Snape bellowing at the 'ignoramus' and 'buffoon.' Given that Snape rarely raised his voice beyond the menacing tone typically experienced, Ron was understandably shaken. After the harrowing ordeal they had just been through, they were looking forward to the weekend, what little of it they would be able to enjoy. Exempt Harry might be, but that didn't mean he would be exempt next year. He recognized the need to keep up in his classes, and so he kept going back to the dungeons for more mistreatment.

* * *

Snape took a deep breath, glad that once again, he had averted a minor catastrophe. The fool Weasley boy had messed up his potion so badly he was actually making something completely different. If he hadn't intervened, Snape knew that the entirety of the class would have been passed out on the floor, soon to fall into a magical coma. Apparently, Weasley had inherited his brothers' penchant for mischief but had apparently missed the conscious control of this ability the twins had.

* * *

As they entered the common room, Harry took a deep breath and felt a little bit of the stress he had accumulated over the day begin to slip away. This was his home, and whatever else might happen, Harry knew he could get through the tournament and whatever else the universe threw at him.

Hermione brushed past him, giving him a little glare for blocking the entrance, but Harry only grinned in reply. Huffing, she sat down at one of the tables and began to work on her potions essay, thinking she would start it before heading to dinner. Harry joined her after dropping his bag up in the dorm.

Ron had followed Harry up to their room, but instead of returning with his homework, he had brought down his chess set and attempted to woo several younger years into a match.

After soundly trouncing his third straight opponent, he turned his attention to his friends.

"Why don't you take a break, Harry, and we'll see if you can out maneuver me this time?"

Harry glanced over, remembering the horrible defeats he had had to endure at the whims of Ron's masterful strategies. He also remembered their first year, when Ron had literally outsmarted their head of house at her own game, taking the title of Chess-Master of Hogwarts at the same time.

"I think I'll take a pass this time around."

"… wimp."

Hermione looked up briefly when Ron had initially spoken, and now was completely ignoring her two friends. She had already written a good 8 inches for the 12 inches assigned, compared to his 5 and Ron's 0, so Harry felt she was adequately prepared to go get dinner.

"Alright Hermione, Ron. I am getting hungry, and dinner is in 15 minutes anyways, so I say we start heading down and grab a seat."

Ron nodded, still pouting a little from Harry's refusal of a good game of chess. Hermione had to be told to leave her essay there, it would be waiting for her when she got back. She didn't look happy but accepted her friends' admonishments with dignity.

* * *

Harry felt content. After dinner, the trio had returned to the tower where Hermione and Harry finished their essays, while Ron finally started his. He was still complaining that it could wait until later but was convinced once his friends had allowed him to read their work to get an idea what to do. His outline wasn't pretty, but with Hermione as a friend, he wouldn't get any lower than an Acceptable.

All Harry had left to do this weekend was switching spells for Transfiguration, which he was already passingly effective at. Professor Flitwick's assignment on banishing charms was redundant, as Harry had mastered them before even the first task. He would brush up on the wand movements to make sure they were up to the diminutive professor's standards.

Stretching, he reached for the high ceiling of the common room, privately wondering how the house elves managed to clean all the portraits and tapestries decorating the walls from the top to the bottom of the spacious room.

"I'm going to head to bed guys, don't stay up too late."

Hermione waved him off from her position at the table, revising her essay for the third time. Ron barely acknowledged him as he took on two third-years at once in simultaneous chess games.

Brushing his teeth, Harry began to think about tomorrow's plans, both excited for the Hogsmeade trip and curious as to what Fleur wanted to discuss. Harry hopped in bed. Seamus was out, presumably with one of his usual 'friends', Dean was downstairs working still, and Neville was fast asleep. Sighing, Harry drifted off.

* * *

Fleur had slept well, encouraged by the positive response Harry had had toward her earlier, and a little nervous about her plan to talk with him later. She was on the way down to Hogsmeade before she even realized the perfect snowfall that had blanketed the landscape. 'I'm more wrapped up in my head than I realized,' Fleur thought, and speeding up a little, caught up to Dian, who was heading the same direction.

" _Good morning Dian, how are you?"_

Smiling, the French witch responded, " _Very well, thank you Fleur. How are you? Do you have any plans today?"_

Fleur gave a little smile. " _I'm excited to get to the town. I'm meeting a friend for lunch at the Broomsticks."_

" _Oh? It wouldn't be that Potter boy, would it? You seem to be spending an inordinate amount of time with him lately. You don't like him, do you?"_ Dian gave a small leer, and Fleur almost blushed.

" _No, no, nothing like that. He reminds me of myself when I was younger, and I enjoy his company."_

Dropping the lecherous smile, Dian replaced it with a small smirk and nodded at Fleur's words. Fleur and Dian were not particularly close, but being a part veela as well made her at least someone with a sympathetic ear. She knew that when Fleur said the boy reminded her of herself, she meant something far deeper than another person might.

The two young women parted ways when they reached the town, Fleur heading into the shopping district while Dian wandered around the rustic side streets. Reaching Honeydukes, she ducked in while trying to hide her identity with her scarf and hat. She was addicted to sweets, particularly the chocolate they made here, which was one of the few positive surprises she had found in England. French chocolates would always be superior, but in the absence of true bliss, delight works well. She was hiding, however, because she wanted to avoid the stigma chocolate addicts often get. Her veela heritage afforded her some lee-way when it came to watching calories, but she tried to keep up appearances.

Purchasing several bars of chocolate and some interesting sweets Gabby might like, she left the candy shop and looked around for her next stop. She stopped into Scrivenshafts and bought several rolls of parchment for letters, looked in the window of Gladrags, and finally ended up at Madame Puddifoots.

She looked over the tea shop and shuddered. The British standard of romance was sadly lacking.

Walking into Zonko's she noticed several things at once. First, the Weasley twins were grinning at each other, both holding a veritable mountain of prank items. Second, everyone else in the store staring in abject horror at the aforementioned pranksters. Finally, Harry was in the shop, apparently looking for novelty items.

Edging around the store, she made her way to Harry's side and greeted him.

"Hello Harry, do you want to head to lunch soon?"

"Hey Fleur, yeah, sure. I'll buy these and we can head over. I don't want to be anywhere near the twins for the next few hours."

Fleur nodded in agreement. Even among the two visiting schools, the twins had a reputation as pranksters. By the First Task, the Durmstrang ship and Beauxbaton's carriage were just as likely to be inundated with their efforts as the castle.

Harry and Fleur strolled casually toward the Three Broomsticks on the main road, chatting casually about schoolwork and what they thought the Third Task might involve.

Reaching the local tavern, they were assaulted by the warm air, heavy with the smells of a dozen different dishes and flavors, mixing with the aroma of dozens of bodies pressed into the tight restaurant. Fleur noticed a small table off to the side that was unoccupied, but Harry motioned them to head back outside.

"The main room of the Broomsticks is charmed to always have enough room for whoever walks in, but I think we should wait just a little bit and it should calm down in there. We can have our talk before we head back to get some lunch. We don't have to be back up at the castle until dinner, so we have plenty of time."

She nodded, and Harry started walking, leading her out of town and toward a small path leading into the woods a little way. Following him down it, they came to a clearing with a view of an old wooden structure. Upon closer inspection, Fleur noted that there were no doors or windows that were not blocked or boarded up in some way.

"Very scenic." And it was. Despite the poor condition of the building, the background was breathtaking. The Scottish Highlands was in full effect near the school, and the setting for the ramshackle little hut couldn't have been more stunning.

"Not many people come out this far. We should be able to talk in relative peace, and we'll have advance notice if anybody comes by. Now, what did you want to talk about?" Harry seemed curious about what she could want.

She sighed. This was the moment she had been most nervous about this entire morning and even earlier this week. She turned and looked at the beautiful scenery, hoping it would be easier to say it without looking into his eyes. "'Arry, I've noticed you don't seem to have anybody you truly trust. I know how difficult it can be to have a secret that is eating you away inside, and I think you need someone to talk to. I won't presume to say I could be that person, but you do need to trust someone with your issues, or they will continue to trouble you." Taking a deep breath, she turned to face him. He had a look of defensiveness, not something she was aiming for. Hoping to soothe him slightly, she opened her mouth, only to get cut off by Harry.

"That might work for you, but I can't just share all my secrets. People will get hurt, and I don't want the hassle that will come with sharing the crap in my life." Harry was beginning to fidget, legs wanting to move away from the source of discomfort while his fingers searched for something to hold onto tightly.

"I don't mean for you to tell all your secrets, but I can tell you are struggling with something or things. Having someone you can trust would help you." Fleur could tell she may have overstepped her bounds.

"You don't know what I have to deal with, how can you. My issues are my own."

"But I do know. I've been there before; I remember what it was like to not trust anyone. You need to release your burden, or you will never find any peace."

Harry took long strides away from Fleur, toward the shack in the distance. Fleur didn't realize the young man could move that quickly and hurried after him. Coming within a few meters of the tall fence surrounding the old house, Harry stopped, then began pacing in front of the gate. Fleur stood several meters further away, giving him space but staying nearby in a half-formed motion of support. They stayed like this for several minutes, Harry pacing, Fleur trying to stay near without pressuring him.

"I have a godfather," Harry spoke up suddenly, quietly. "He wasn't able to take care of me for a variety of reasons, but I do have a family. Last year, he got out of jail and came to find me. I met him for the first time, right in there." Harry gestured vaguely toward the house. "A mix-up several years ago sent him to prison for a crime he didn't commit. The real culprit ended up being a rat animagus living with a wizarding family for the past 10 years. He escaped and my godfather is still believed guilty. He sends me letters from time to time." Harry fell silent.

Fleur could feel that there was more to the story. He never gave any names, which immediately set off several warnings in her head, but was content to let him talk. It wasn't her place to ask.

Harry turned back to her. Still flushed, though whether from anger or the bitter wind blowing through the moors Fleur didn't know, Harry stared intently into her eyes. She shivered a bit from the pain and judgment in his gaze, as well as the cold Scottish air. Apparently finding her worthy, Harry began to talk again.

"When my godfather showed up, he kidnapped Ron and dragged him and his pet rat through a tunnel leading from the grounds to here. Once in the shack, he waited for Hermione and me to follow. He disarmed us, had us at his mercy. Eventually, I overpowered him only to be rebuffed by one of his friends that in the end helped explain the situation. We caught Pettigrew and were about to hand him in, but coincidence led to him escaping and my godfather having to keep running." Fleur began to piece some of the picture together; a man named Pettigrew, an escaped convict, a man close enough to the Potters to be named godfather. She was by no means stupid, but again, she would respect his desire for secrecy, especially, if as he claimed, his godfather was innocent.

Harry refocused on her. "I don't know if I can trust you with all my secrets, but I trust you enough to share this: my godfather is Sirius Black. He _is_ innocent, but I don't know where he is. Peter Pettigrew is alive and out there somewhere." She felt the silence slowing the air around them. "I don't typically trust someone so readily. I know you understand some of what I've dealt with, and that makes you different enough I guess. I understand what you mean by needing someone to totally trust, but I don't feel ready yet, nor close enough to anyone to fully unload." He took a deep breath. Another. Opening his mouth slightly, he paused, then closed it again.

Fleur decided to jump in. "I trust you as well 'arry. I only brought this up because I could recognize your 'urt, see it like I know my parents saw mine. I just want to make sure you are okay." She stopped herself short, knowing she could natter on for a while if not careful. Casting a _tempus_ charm, she realized she was feeling quite hungry right about now.

"Let's go eat. I'm sure the tavern will be less crowded by now."

Harry nodded, and they began their walk back into town. He took one last look back at the shack behind them, before they entered into the woods, and Fleur wondered what he was thinking of when he did.

* * *

Harry felt quite drained. He hadn't expected their talk to be so heavy. Most of the time when a girl asks to go for a walk with a boy by themselves, he hopes that things will get steamy, but in this case, they only got heated.

The pair walked slowly back into town, cooling off and reflecting on their discussion. Harry was unsure how to proceed, still feeling kind of ticked off with his French companion, but also grateful that she cared enough to confront him. He knew Hermione and Ron cared, but he was also very careful not to let his mask fall around them. And he never realized how much he had let it slip around Fleur.

They entered the Three Broomsticks and looked around. The warm air still held the scents of dozens of delicious options, but the noise level had died down to a much more reasonable level. There were now several open tables, but an occupied table in the corner caught Harry's eye. Ron and Hermione were finishing up their meal, and bickering like usual.

Harry led Fleur over to them and pulled out a chair for her. She sat down, smiling as she did so. Harry pulled over a chair and sat next to her. He glanced at his friends, who were still bickering, apparently not noticing the new arrivals.

'While I love them, I just don't think I should burden them with my past. They would probably just go charging off to maim the Dursley's and get in a heap of trouble besides.'

"Ahem," Harry's slight cough caught Hermione's attention, and blushing beet red, she shushed Ron and straightened up slightly.

"How are you Fleur, Harry? Did you have a nice afternoon?" Hermione's precise English accent caused Harry to smile. She never did realize how grown-up she could act sometimes.

"We 'ad a good afternoon, 'ermione. Harry and I were able to settle some things, and as you can see, we both came back without a scratch."

Hermione looked slightly confused at Fleur's mention of any sort of disagreement. Hopefully, she would leave it at confusion, and not ask Harry about it later.

"Alright. How is Gabrielle? Has she recovered from the Second Task? I'm sure that was quite a shock for her." Harry had forgotten to ask after the little blonde. The last time he had seen her she had seemed alright, seeing how she had literally tackled him to the floor, but it didn't hurt to ask.

"She 'as recovered well, thank you for asking. I do not think she will ever forget that day, but she will probably remember it more for being saved by 'Arry Potter than for almost being killed by Merfolk." It was Harry's turn to blush.

"And 'ow are you, Ron? Did you 'ave a good day in 'Ogsmeade?"

The Red-Head blushed now and stammered out an affirmative. It appeared he was still flustered by the beautiful Veela girl, but at least he wasn't tripping over himself and yelling at the top of his lungs. Harry sighed in remembrance of the last semester.

Madam Rosmerta came by and picked up Ron and Hermione's empty plates, taking them back to the kitchen to be washed.

"We should head back to the castle. Ron still has his Potions essay, and I need to talk to Professor McGonagall about an extra-credit assignment. I taught myself switching spells during first year, but there's no need to waste the available class time with something I already know." Hermione explained as she began putting her winter cloak back on.

Ron protested slightly, but he knew it would be better to just go along with the brunette and get his work done tonight.

Fleur and Harry waved as the two walked out the door.

* * *

Dumbledore hadn't even noticed Harry's prolonged absence from the castle. He assumed that Harry had followed his typical routine of visiting shops after breakfast, eating lunch at the Broomsticks and come back to the castle.

The Headmaster pulled out his collection of dinosaur toys and began re-enacting a prehistoric battle.

* * *

Madam Rosmerta came over with a pair of butterbeers for the two friends. "Would you two like to order?"

"What's the lunch special?" Harry asked the attractive bartender. "We have roast chicken, along with the regular sandwiches and soups."

Harry thought it over and replied, "Let's go with the chicken, and whatever she wants," gesturing to Fleur.

Fleur shook her head. "I'm alright. I 'ad a big breakfast."

"Are you sure? The sandwiches here are really grand." Rosmerta smiled at the teen.

Fleur just shook her head and smiled at the woman, "I'm sure. I would take a small salad if you serve them." Rosmerta nodded and left to get their food.

As they waited for their food to arrive, the two friends continued their previous discussion on what they thought the Third Task would be like.

"I'm honestly hoping they keep to their stated intentions, at least for this last task. The previous two were much more dangerous than they should have been, considering they said they toned it down this go-round," Harry proclaimed. "I don't know if everyone will make it back if they follow the previous idiotic ideas up with another one. I mean, importing not one, not two, but _four_ five-x level creatures into the country shouldn't have been possible, not for a school-level event. And kidnapping four hostages, and putting them underwater in mid-February? And two of the eight people in the water were Veela! The organizers can't be stupid enough to try for a third time to kill us all off."

Fleur nodded but rebutted the young raven-haired teen. "They probably organized all the events prior to the start of the tournament, so changing them would not be possible. But you are absolutely correct about their foolishness. I do not think I will be pursuing any combat careers after I graduate."

Just then, their food arrived, Harry's roast chicken breast still slightly steaming, and Fleur's salad lying innocently in a small wooden bowl. They thanked the serving girl who had brought the food out, and the two began to eat.

Fleur delicately reached over and stole a bite of chicken.

Harry raised an eyebrow but continued to eat.

"So tell me more about your friends, 'Arry. I've only spent a few moments with 'Ermione during and after the second task, and your friend Ron, well, 'e obviously 'as trouble being near my allure."

Harry smiled at the thought of his friends, while Fleur subtly took another bite of chicken.

He launched into the story of how they became friends, first Ron on the train, then Hermione after the Troll incident. He could tell she was very interested when she stopped taking pieces of chicken off his plate.

"Zat is _incroyable_! 'Ow on Earth did you manage to survive!?" Fleur's French slipped through, her blue eyes wide at the thought of a trio of first years taking on a mountain troll. She reached over and took another piece of chicken.

Harry sighed. At least he had a few bites while she was distracted.

* * *

A pair of ginger geniuses had the great idea to alter the back-scratching charms on the Headmaster's chair. After dinner was over, Albus would experience what no man his age ever should: a wedgie of epic proportions.

* * *

Harry noticed the lunch crowd had begun turning into the dinner crowd.

"Tempus," Harry muttered. "Hey Fleur, we'd better head back up. We have a little under a half-hour, and it's a good 15-minute walk back to the castle gates."

"I had a good time today, 'Arry. I'm glad we were able to spend some time together today."

Harry grinned. "Me too. Do you think we could meet up sometime next week? I wanted to talk about that enchanting class you mentioned. I'd be willing to show you some offensive magic I've picked up while preparing for the tasks."

Fleur beamed back at him. "I would be grateful. How about we have lunch next Saturday and then go to the library?"

The pair set the time and place and started the walk back to the school. They continued to chit-chat, not really talking about anything, but just relishing the camaraderie they found with each other. They made it through the gates in time, and as they neared the Beauxbaton's carriage, they heard the rusty iron screech as they closed.

Harry and Fleur walked into the Great Hall together but split off to their separate tables. Harry sat down beside Ron, who had been saving a seat for him. "Thanks mate. How was your afternoon?"

Ron looked up from his plate and tried to talk. All that came out was some potatoes and bits of meat. Harry grimaced but was perversely amused at his friend's behavior. "Hold off a moment there Ron. Swallow, then talk. Neville, how about you? Did you make it down to the village?" Harry looked at the boy sitting across the table.

"Uh, my day was good. I spent most of it in greenhouse 5, tending the moly flowers. Nothing exciting, except a stray stalk of venomous tentacula got into the mandrake bed. Professor Sprout and I managed to limit the damage to two plants."

"Do you spend a lot of your free time in the greenhouses?" Ron asked, spraying a bit of greens.

"Sure, it's more comfortable for me than the common room. I do better in the calm plant beds than the bustling common room." Neville blushed a little bit. "My grandma's friends say our gardener has a green thumb, but I am the one to take care of the beds at home. When I'm gone, the house elves just follow the instructions I leave them."

Harry and Ron shared a glance, then kind of shrugged. They knew Neville was more than he appeared, else why would he be in Gryffindor, but the shy boy didn't really come across as a stereotypical Lion.

"So Ron, how was your day?" Harry asked his friend before he could put more food in his mouth.

Ron shrugged. "I went down with you to the village, but after we split up in Zonko's, I lost track of time and ended up meeting Seamus and Dean a little before lunch." Harry felt a little bad that he hadn't spent as much time with Ron this year. "We walked over to Honeyduke's and then Dean needed some wand polish so we stopped by Olivander's. The attendant kind of reminded me of the old man, but younger and even more spacy. Then me and Hermione had lunch, where you saw us, and this afternoon I finished the essay. It's rough, but I should at least get an A with Hermione reviewing it."

Hermione walked up. "Hello Harry, Ron. How was your day Neville?"

Neville summed up his day for her as she squeezed in beside Harry.

"Where were you, Hermione? Dinner started near 20 minutes ago." Harry looked over at Hermione as Ron spoke through his mouthful again. He got mildly sprayed with some peas this time, but they were easy to brush off.

"Oh, I was just in the library. Viktor asked me to help him with a bit of spellwork. He just needed someone to cast _Homenum Revelio_ while he tried the Disillusionment charm. You know Harry, I bet that's how Dumbledore knows who someone is at his office door. He probably merged the spell into his door along with a proximity charm."

Harry gave a small smile. "You have always been the one to figure that kind of stuff out. You're probably right, but I wouldn't have a clue on how to find out. Not that it really matters. He might just be that good."

Ron and Neville both smiled. Neither one was interested in _how_ the Headmaster did what he did. They were just happy not to see it in action very often.

* * *

Dumbledore was in quite a bit of pain. A prankster had apparently figured out he had an enchanted back-rub chair, and they had altered the charms to give him a massive wedgie when he stood up after dinner.

He rubbed his rear.

"I hope it will be back to normal tomorrow morning."

* * *

The castle was at rest. The majority of its occupants slept peacefully, and those few who were still awake were either on patrol or up late finishing homework. On the grounds, a frigid breeze passed over the surface of the lake, and through the trees of the forest, moving their barren branches in a parody of dancing.

As in the castle, few creatures moved outside, preferring the shelter their homes and burrows provided. One of the few moving animals was a small lark, flitting home after a long day looking for berries and insects.

As the lark nestled into its treetop home, a young raven-haired wizard nestled into his covers. He had been happy with his day, but the emotions he'd experienced had worn him out. A good night's rest would cure him of his weariness, and perhaps bring new enlightenment to the suggestions offered by his new friend.


End file.
